LITMIR.BIZ

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doing, Otto?” Sterling whispered harshly.

      The foreman shrugged. “Ain’t that what you told me on the way over? That you two was getting hitched?”

      Judging by the look on Sterling’s face, that wasn’t what he’d said at all. The commotion was agitating Grace, and Heather bounced the child on her hip. While events weren’t exactly going to plan, at least they were moving in the right direction.

      The reverend banged his hand on the lectern. “A little decorum, if you please. Is this true, Miss O’Connor, Mr. Blackwell?”

      Heather turned toward Sterling and lifted her shoulder in a helpless shrug. The reverend took the vague gesture as a sign of agreement.

      “Hallelujah.” Using his gnarled fingers, he pinched the loose end of his robe sleeves against his wrist and dabbed at his brow. “The wedding of Miss O’Connor and Mr. Blackwell will take place in exactly two hours.”

      Appearing exhausted by the sudden turn of events, the reverend tucked his Bible beneath his arm and strode down the aisle.

      He paused before Heather and Sterling. “I’ll fetch the witness book. Two hours.”

      Her breath caught. Events weren’t just moving in the right direction, they were racing ahead and leaving her behind.

      Confused by the abrupt end of the service, the townspeople stood and milled about, their voices droning.

      Otto placed two fingers in his mouth and blew out a whistle. “Don’t just stand around. Go on home and have supper.”

      His words spurred the crowd into action. People gathered their belongings, shrugging into coats, and men donned their hats.

      Heather cast a surreptitious glance at Sterling to gauge his response, then quickly looked away. He wasn’t taking this well. At least she had two hours to convince him of her plan. Keeping him in her peripheral vision, she fielded murmured congratulations and perfunctory handshakes as the church emptied.

      Otto was the last person to leave. He tipped his hat. “See you after supper.”

      Alone with Sterling, her courage faltered. All her careful words muddled together in her head.

      Seemingly in a similar place, Sterling paced the center aisle with the restless energy of a caged bear. “I telegraphed Dillon.”

      Her hold on Grace slipped. “You did what?”

      “I’m trying to make this right.” He flipped back the edges of his jacket and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his gray wool trousers. “It’s my fault Dillon broke things off with you.”

      Her panic must have registered with Grace. The child’s lower lip trembled, and she tugged on Heather’s earbobs.

      “Ma!”

      “No. Not yours. Mine,” Heather corrected the child. She flashed an apologetic look at Sterling. “I think that’s what she was trying to say at the train depot. I think ma means mine. She’s very taken with shiny things.”

      “You have to listen to me, Heather.” Sterling grasped her shoulder and steered her toward a pew in the last row, then knelt before her. “I’m the reason you’re not with Dillon.”

      Gracie had already been forced to sit still for too long, and her patience lapsed. She flipped onto her stomach and let her feet dangle off the edge of the pew.

      “Da.”

      “Down.” Heather helped her the rest of the way. “Gracie is down.”

      “Da,” Gracie repeated.

      For the past week, Heather had felt like a professor attempting to decipher a new language. Words often coincided with actions, giving her clues as to Gracie’s intent. More often than not, they both wound up frustrated with each other.

      “What do you mean?” Heather asked, her attention distracted by Gracie’s busy explorations. “I already know about your pa. You don’t have to apologize for him. I understand.”

      There was no need for him to explain, and all this talk of Dillon was wasting what precious little time they had together before the reverend returned.

      Sterling rubbed his eyebrows with the tips of his fingers. “Dillon left because I talked him into going.”

      “Oh.” She was more curious than shocked. “I thought your pa disapproved.”

      “It’s a long story.” He pressed his hands together as though in prayer. “I had this all rehearsed, but nothing is going as planned.”

      She huffed out a breath. “I know the feeling.”

      “I didn’t want Dillon to become like our pa.” He tilted his fingertips toward her. “I knew if Dillon stayed, he’d be just like him. I saw the changes as he got older. I talked him into leaving even though I knew he was sweet on you. I told myself the two of you weren’t serious.”

      “We weren’t.”

      “Don’t you see?” Sterling shook his head in disbelief. “Maybe this baby is a blessing in disguise. You two can be together.”

      Gracie tugged on her skirts. “Hungie.”

      Heather unwrapped the heel of bread she’d stowed in her bag for such an emergency. Gracie stuffed one end into her mouth, and Heather hoisted her onto the seat once more.

      “I appreciate the apology,” she began, “but it doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t say to Dillon. He made the choice alone. By himself.”

      She didn’t suppose it mattered who had spoken with Dillon or what they’d said. If he’d felt anything for her, even a sliver of affection, he’d have had some remorse in leaving. The letter stuffed in her copy of The Return of the Native had made his lack of regard for her glaringly clear.

      “This is a second chance,” Sterling said.

      “I don’t want a second chance. I didn’t even want the first chance, not really.” How did she explain something to someone else when she didn’t quite understand herself? “When I first arrived in Valentine, I didn’t know anyone. Dillon was nice to me. I mistook gratitude for something more.”

      Dillon had appeared troubled and lost, feelings she understood all too well. She’d sensed in him a kindred spirit. She’d been drawn to him because his confusion had mirrored her own. She’d recently fled an untenable situation, and she’d caught Sterling’s brother in the same moment of indecision. A fundamentally flawed part of her character had sensed she was latching on to a man who was fixing to leave.

      “But you have to marry someone,” Sterling said. “Didn’t you hear the reverend? Everything I discovered about this child led her straight to us. It’s as though Grace appeared out of thin air. Only you and I know the truth, and no one is interested in our opinion. As long as the three of us stay in this town, you have to marry someone, and it’s either him or me.”

      “Then I choose you.”

      He lost his balance and groped for the pew behind him. “What?”

      “Have you ever come to a turning point in your life?” His obvious shock wasn’t encouraging, but at least he hadn’t uttered an outright refusal. “A moment when everything changes and you can’t go back to being the person you were before?”

      “I’m not sure I understand.”

      “I can never go back to the person I was before Gracie came into my life. This week has changed me. When you said she was a blessing, you were right. I’ve been praying for the answer all week. When you came into the church this morning, I knew. I could tell just by looking that you hadn’t discovered anything, and I knew. Someone abandoned her. They don’t deserve her.”

      Gracie extended a fistful of soggy bread. Her pinafore was damp with drool and flecks of dough. “Da. Gra da.”

      “Done.

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